


In The Long Run

by stylesforstiles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: I am sorry but it goes with the story, M/M, Older!Direction, also brief talk of death, and are musicians, and fluff, and smutty talk, and the Eagles, brief talk of a past Louis relationship, except liam, happy things too, just trust me, like donuts, they're all in their 30's, very side Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesforstiles/pseuds/stylesforstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summers come and go, but for Louis they couldn't go fast enough </p><p>AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Long Run

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the Eagles, so I wanted to find a way to use their songs in a story. And full disclaimer, I wrote this before I had ever heard Home... :)  
> xo

**Summer 1993**

Louis looked at the paint peeling off the edges of the cabin door as he pushed it open. ‘Wonderful’ he thought; a rubbish cabin to go with the rubbish that was his life right now. 

He threw his bag on the bed closest to the window and watched the dust particles float up into the sliver of sun beating through the glass. 

"Lovely." He sighed and collapsed on the bed, pulling the bright red United cap over his eyes. It was the only thing he had brought with him to camp that reminded him of Doncaster.

His mum had packed up their lives and moved them to Seattle of all places, claiming that his step dad Mark had a fantastic job opportunity that he couldn't pass up. At twelve, this was very low on Louis' priority list, because how could they do this to Louis at the end of the school year and ruin his last summer before he became a full blown adult?

He was going to be a _teenager_. That was way more of a huge deal than Mark's stupid IT job. 

He sighed again and sat up on the bed, bouncing his heels off the edge of the mattress. He supposed camp wouldn’t be too awful; he did need to make friends, and his mum had promised it wasn't going to be some nerdy craft making, Boy Scout nonsense. She had found a music camp where he could play piano, learn other instruments, and sing to his heart’s content. Aside from football, the only thing he truly loved was music. 

The door suddenly banged open with a whirlwind of action following it. A short blonde boy jumped on the bed opposite from him, not minding the guitar strapped to his back and almost knocking out the boy who shuffled in behind him. 

"Niall, be careful, you might break your guitar!" 

Louis snickered, shaking his head. "He well near broke your face, mate,"

The boy's mouth dropped open in shock. "You sound British,"

"I should hope so; I did live there for a good chunk of my life."

The blonde, Niall, pulled his guitar off and placed it on the pillows, hopping down to stand in front of Louis. "Sweet! I won't be the only foreigner anymore. I'm Niall," he motioned for the doe eyed boy to come closer, "And this is Liam. We live down the road from each other, and our mums decided this would be how we were going to spend our summer."

Louis grinned. He immediately liked him. "Yeah, my mum was the same. We just moved here so I didn't really have much else to do."

"Cool." He flung his arm around Liam, who inserted himself against his side with a shy smile. Niall held his hand out to Louis in a fist, "We've been looking for a third person, it's not quite the same when you say the two musketeers, ya know?"

Louis made a fist of his own, bumping him back.

"The three musketeers does have a much better ring to it."

...

By the end of the summer they had become inseparable, and learned all of each other's secrets that they would share late at night while eating sweet treats they nicked from the the kitchen. 

"Have you ever kissed a boy?"

Liam fumbled the spoon of ice cream he had just brought to his mouth, a glob of cookies and creme landing on the front of his shirt. "I'm eleven."

Niall giggled, reaching over to steal some of his ice cream, even though he had a full bowl of his own. "Well I haven't. I think I mostly want to kiss girls though? Maybe. I dunno." He shoved a heaping pile of rocky road in his mouth, mumbling around it. "Why, have you?"

Louis bit his lip, searching their eyes for judgement. "Yeah, only once, but...I think I want to again." His insides twisted as he watched Niall's face take in the information. He light up seconds later. 

"Oh! Did you want to try with me?"

Liam choked on the next scoop he attempted to put in his mouth. Louis rubbed his back and leaned over to grab Niall with his other arm, dragging him into a hug.  

" _Thank you_." He hoped that Niall understood everything he meant in those words.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being my friend no matter what. Thank you for being here. 

Niall shrugged, "I'm your friend, I'm just trying to help."

Liam pushed his bowl aside, throwing himself on top of them so he was hugging them both. "I want to help too!"

Louis could only shake his head and laugh. He squirmed out from under their arms, sitting back on his knees. He put a hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "You're the best friends ever, but, I think I'm going to wait."

They both nodded encouragingly. 

"You're going to find someone amazing to kiss one day, Lou. I know it."

*

Louis had met John in the library at school when they were both attempting to bullshit their way through a paper on Shakespeare.

They became secret high school sweethearts; out and proud college boyfriends, and finally, happily engaged fiance's. 

Until one average August day, John was suddenly taken away from him. 

 

 

That's when Louis started to hate the summer. 

 

_'Cause it's a long road ahead_

_and you can make it in the end_

_and I'm gonna make it with my friends_

_And I'm tryin'_

*

**Present day**

Louis sat in his favorite beat up chair on the back porch, tucking himself further into his jumper. He slowly lifted a cigarette to his lips, willing his hands to stop shaking. 

He spent of a lot of his time doing that over the years, trying to trick his nerves into a state of calm. The long, restless nights that created pages and pages of music where his greatest testament to that. That, and the overflowing ashtray and rain filled wine bottles on the faded white railing of his porch.

He heard the screen door creak open and slam shut.

The footsteps stopped short behind him. He knew they would be here. They had come the year before, and the year before that. Without fail, they were always there.

He stamped the cigarette butt into the dish at his side. "Is this my intervention then?"

Liam let out a long sigh. "Lou, we love you. But we can't watch you do _this_ day in and day out anymore,"

"No one's forcing you to be here, Liam; and last time I checked, Niall lived in Malibu,”

Niall's usually bright eyes suddenly darkened. "Just because I don't live here doesn't mean it hurts me any less. I've known you almost my whole life, I fucking love you."

Louis grit his teeth, pulling out another cigarette. "I appreciate your concern, but I am trying."

Liam dropped a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze. "We know you are, but three years of seeing you do this...Lou, we think you need to get away from here for a bit,”

Louis blinked up at him. "I can't just _leave_." He scrolled through his regular list of excuses in his head. "I've got the house, and...and..." 

Liam knelt down next to him, grabbing a hold of his hand in between his own. "We're going to drive to LA,"

"What?"

Niall's lips quirked up briefly, "Yep, a road trip just like old times, and we can stay at my place when we get there. For however long you like.”

"Liam has a job, not to mention Zayn and the kids."

Liam shook his head. "I've already talked it over with the partners; I've got enough time off and I'll check in if I'm needed. As for Zayn, he's going to take the kids to the Cape and visit his parents.”

Louis ducked his head, "I-" He fumbled for the pack of cigarettes that Niall pinched a second later. He leaned back in the chair, resigned. “Fine. If you insist.”

“We do.”

Niall leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "We'll be back in the morning." 

Liam pat his leg again before standing fully. "It's been a long time since we've done something like this. It'll be good. For all of us I think."

...

Later that night, Louis stood in front of the framed pictures in his hallway, scanning them over and filing the images away. He reached for the print closest to him, and started to take them down one by one. It was something he should have done a long time ago, but he had never been very good with goodbyes; even when they were kids. Niall and Liam only lived a ten minute drive away from him, but every time camp ended he would shed a tear or two on the car ride home. They had so much fun together. 

When he finished, the only ones left were of the three of them over the years. 

He swiped his fingers over a picture of them in Niall's shitty old convertible VW Bug, the sun beating down on their backs as they raised their hands to the sky. They had been _so_ young.

And free.

He switched off the light and stood in the shadows, hoping that he would find that feeling again.

 

_"So put me on a highway_

_And show me a sign_

_And take it to the limit one more time"_

*

Louis shut the front door and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. The air was already cooling substantially even though it was only the beginning of August. It was so familiar; the shiver that ran up and down his back and the hollow ache in his bones. There were too many memories here, and not enough at the same time. He opened his eyes as Niall pulled into the driveway and shuddered inwardly. Maybe it _was_ time for endless summer days, the rhythmic calm of the ocean waves and a peaceful, easy feeling.

He met them at the bottom of the steps, Liam already looking like he was about to walk on eggshell's around him.  

“You ready?”

He shrugged, his smile lop sided. “I suppose.” He jutted his chin towards the car, “What, no VW this time?”

Niall shook his head, gently patting the hood of the Range Rover. “I actually want to get there in one piece, I've fixed enough broken down cars in my day.”

Liam was still watching him anxiously. “How are you feeling, good?”

“To be honest, Liam, I’d feel a lot better if you weren’t wearing those god awful dad jeans.”

Teasing Liam was something from their youth he could always relive, and would hopefully prove to him that he was not going to fall apart at the seams.

Liam frowned, pulling at the waistband. “They’re from American Eagle though,”

Louis nudged Niall’s shoulder against his. “Oooh, he’s a hip dad, pardon me,”

Liam rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the bags out of his hand. “Not everyone can squeeze into skinny jeans after thirty, you know.”

Niall snorted, popping the trunk open. “You think Lou’s are bad, wait until you see my mate Harry’s.”

Liam shot him what they had patented the ‘concerned father of four’ look. He had been wearing it since ’93, though he did only end up having two gorgeous children.  “Who’s Harry?”

Louis tossed his bag into the trunk, shutting it with a grunt. “I second that,”

Niall swung the keys around his finger, snapping the gum he was chewing on, a look of disbelief on his face. “Doesn’t anyone read my update emails? He’s been recording in my studio for the past few months. I think he’s going to be the next Eddie.”

Louis slapped him on the shoulder, “Great! I can catch up on them in the car.”

“Well you won't have too long, we gotta stop in Portland and pick up Harry.”

Liam’s concerned father face morphed into his stern father face. “What? You didn’t mention this before, maybe Lou—“

“Its _fine_ Liam, I don’t mind.”

Louis’ tight lipped smile remained on his face as he slipped into the backseat. He dug his fingers into his palm, willing the urge to smoke away. He hasn’t had to interact with anyone new in a very long time. He spent the majority of his time at home composing the music he sold for movies and television shows; the most he saw of anyone in the outside world was when Liam made him to come over for dinner every Sunday night. But he loved his kids, so it had never been a problem faking it for them.

He didn’t even go back to visit his mum in the UK anymore. It was all too exhausting, really.

He gave Niall a thumbs up when he started the engine and thought to himself that maybe it was time to start over and let people back in again.

He had been alone with his own thoughts for far too long.

 

_‘Take it easy, take it easy_

_Don’t let the sound of your own wheels_

_Drive you crazy’_

…

“Do you want to play a game?”

Louis glanced up from his phone where he was well into Niall’s weekly email updates, part 17. He now knew more about Justin Bieber than he ever needed to. “What do you mean?”

Niall met his eyes in the rear view mirror, “Have you heard of fuck, kill or marry?”

Louis snorted. “No, I haven’t. I’m old.”

Niall wrinkled his nose as if the word ‘old’ was equivalent to a bad smell for him. He cast a glance at Liam. “What about you, Payno?”

“I have, but—“ Louis let out a giggle, “Only because Zayn tricked me into it,” Louis laughed harder, with Liam now joining in. “The outcome wasn’t pretty. I had to do laundry for two weeks.”

Louis shoved his phone aside, leaning forward to stick his head between the seats. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“So, the premise is I’ll give you three people and you decide whether you’ll—“

“Fuck, kill or marry, I get it.” Louis rolled his eyes, “Bloody hell, kids today. Where do they come up with this stuff?”

Niall tilted his head in thought, stroking his fingers against his chin. “Ah, okay. Channing Tatum, Justin Bieber or Jon Snow,”

Louis scratched his cheek, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “Isn’t his name Kit Harrington?”

Liam hooted, “Well, well, well, you _do_ keep up to date with the young folk.”

“Game of Thrones is quality television, I at least know that much.” He pursed his lips, “Hmm alright, I suppose I’d have it on with Channing, I do admire a good dancer. Marry Kit, because he’s got that knight in shining armor thing and great hair, and I’d kill the Biebs.” He laid a hand on Niall’s shoulder, giving it an apologetic tap. “Sorry mate, you’ll have to find a new obsession.”

Liam threw his head back, his hand's clasped up in a prayer. “Thank god I am no longer in this alone,”

“You guys are just sooo hilarious!”

Louis reached back for his phone, pointing at the open email. “Niall, you literally sent us no less than a hundred pictures of the two of you hanging out,”

“He’s a fantastic recording artist, and you know, I record artists for a living, so _excuse me_ for being excited.”

Louis let out a loud cackle. “No need to get pissy about it, Jesus. I guess you’ll be marrying him then, do we even need to play the game with you?”

“I’m about to choose you to kill,”

Louis fell back against the seat clutching his stomach. It felt good to laugh. Niall’s sparkling eyes and Liam’s soft smile told him that it felt good for them as well.

…

Louis flopped on the couch and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn, “This is so much better than when we were kids, posh hotels are way more my thing than musty old cabins.”

Niall popped the lid off the beer in his hand with a grin. “Thankfully Harry has good taste. He’s going to meet us up in the bar for a drink in a bit.”

“Why didn’t he just fly home? He must be tired of travelling if he’s been on tour,” Liam passed Louis a beer, plunking down next to him. He noticed the change in Niall’s face, quickly putting up his hands. “I’m just asking!”

Louis knew that Liam was mostly asking on his behalf. He picked at the label on his bottle, trying to choose the right words for the way he was feeling.

“I appreciate what you’re both doing for me, what you’ve _always_ done for me. I know that these last few years have been hard on everyone in my life, and that my coping mechanisms have been less than stellar. If you can even call it coping that is. But I want you to know that I’m here, I’m _here_. I want to be better and I want to make new memories. I don’t want to replace the past, and though I would give anything to change the course of it, I know that I can’t. I know that now,” Louis nudged Liam’s shoulder, wiping a runaway tear with his sleeve. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I can meet Niall’s friend, and I won’t shatter from new human contact like you seem to think, Liam.”

Liam sniffled, dropping his head on Louis’ shoulder. “We love you, is all.”

Niall walked over to pet Liam’s hair, his eyes warm. “We do. But if it helps, Harry is probably one of the easiest going people on the planet. You’ll like him.”

A wicked grin spread across Louis' lips. “On a scale of one to Bieber; just how great is he?”

He downed almost half his beer, smacking his lips for emphasis. 

“He’s unBeliebable.”

…

Louis’ leg bounced up and down, his fingers tapping against his thighs as he nursed the beer in front of him. He wasn’t used to the loud chatter and noise surrounding them; he couldn’t quite decide if it was a nice change or not. He smiled across the booth at Niall, who winked at him before perking up substantially.

“Harry!”

He slid out of the booth and immediately wrapped his arms around the torso of a guy who had a massive dimple to go along with his massive head of hair.

“Niall, my beautiful Irish prince! How have you been?”

He pulled away and held Harry out by his arms, taking him in from head to toe. “I’m great, though not as good as you; look at this fancy shite you’ve got on,” he waved a hand over his embroidered jacket, sleek slim jeans and snake print Chelsea boots.

Harry brushed his hair off his forehead, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “A few designers sent me some things; it’s not a big deal. Who can say no to free clothes, right?”

“Yeah, but you look like…expensive.”

Louis watched as his rosy glow deepened and decided to save him from Niall’s interrogation. “Are you going to introduce us then, Niall?”

“Right, right,” He nudged Harry over to the booth, pointing between them. “Harry Styles, I’d like you to meet Louis and Liam, my best mates and your soon to be road trip buddies.”

His eyes brightened, offering a hand out to Louis, “It’s really nice to meet you; I’ve heard so much about the both of you,”

He moved over to Liam and Louis hid his hand back in his lap, drawing his eyes over Harry’s side profile. He was certainly good looking; a fun fact Niall had seemingly left out of his long winded and descriptive emails. Louis definitely would have read them if he was describing curls the color of rich pressed coffee and peachy sun kissed skin.

He frowned suddenly, which Liam and his hawk eyes immediately noticed. He slid closer, whispering in his ear. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, pushing a finger through the condensation on his abandoned Corona. “Liam, are you going to do this the entire trip?”

Harry accepted the drink Niall handed him, folding himself into the spot across from Louis. He darted his eyes between them sensing something was off and licked his bottom lip. “I hope it’s alright that I crashed your trip? When Niall had mentioned it—“

Louis shook his head, waving his hand in front of him. “Totally, totally okay,” He side eyed Liam, focusing back on Harry. “I’m just a bit exhausted, it’s been…a long summer.”

He didn’t need to know just how many summers he meant.

Niall ran a hand through his messy fringe, replacing his hand with the news boy cap he had been sporting for a good few months. “Alright kids, let's go out! There's some really great bars here, and we should take advantage of that.” 

Liam groaned, slouching into the plush pillows. “We are _definitely_ too old to go bar hopping,”

“I meant gay bars, cowboy. I would never subject anyone to anything less than glitter and strong drinks.”

…

It had been what seemed like decades since Louis had been under disco lights surrounded by men dressed in not much else but a thong and a smile.

Niall seemed more at home than he did; dancing in the middle of a group of drag queens that towered over him while Liam looked on in fascination.

Louis stood off to the side of the dance floor, smiling faintly to passersby without having to make actual eye contact. The music pulsed in his ears, a vintage Britney Spears song banging through the speakers, when he felt a hand on his arm and warm breath tickle his neck. There was a garbled attempt at asking him to dance leaving the sweaty strangers lips.

He politely declined, and by the fifth time a person’s hands landed on him, his skin was starting to feel too tight for his body.

There were too many people and too many unfamiliar faces, and all of it at once was just too much for him at the moment. He turned on his heel and rushed for the exit.

 

_‘Last thing I remember,_

_I was running for the door_

_I had to find the passage back_

_To the place I was before’_

…

Louis leaned against the side of the bar, the exposed brick rough against his thin jacket.

“Is everything alright?”

His eyes fluttered open taking in Harry’s pale features; his huge green eyes clouded with concern.

“Umm…I don’t know. Yes? And no,”

Harry slipped his hands in the pockets of his much fancier coat; a black and gold military number that looked like it cost as much as Louis’ beat up Civic he refused to sell. He made a few hasty steps closer to Louis.

“Do you want me to grab one of the guys?”

Louis shook his head hurriedly. “No, I just…I need a minute. It’s hard to explain,” He slid down the wall and sat on the concrete, bringing his knees up to his chest. Harry paused briefly before moving to sit beside him, not bothered in the least that they were sitting on a dirty sidewalk outside of a bar.

“I’m—“ He took a deep breath. He was going to do this. He could open up. “I lost my partner a few years ago.”

Harry wasn’t touching him, but he could feel the exhale of breath that left his body and his eyes roaming his profile. “I knew that, well Niall had said…” he twisted the rings on his fingers. Louis wondered if it was a nervous habit. “I’m really sorry, Louis. I can understand why you didn’t want to be in there, god I’m—“

Louis turned his head, knocking Harry’s knee with his own. “Hey, no, don’t worry. It’s good for me to get out. I needed it. That’s what this whole trip is about. I’m just not used to the whole ‘single scene’” he grimaced, lips twisted down in a frown. “If that’s what you even call it?” He picked at the hem of his t-shirt, tugging on a stitch that was coming undone.

What a metaphor.

Harry dropped a hand in the space between him and Louis, tracing a pattern on the cement. “I don’t think anything that’s called a ‘scene’ is good to be honest,”

Louis laughed, tipping his head up towards the star filled sky. “God. I haven’t gone out in ages.”

“You’ve still been writing beautiful music though,”

Louis whipped around in surprise. “You know my music?”

Harry bit his lip, nodding shyly, “I admit it; I am a huge fan. When Niall told me you were friends I had hoped we would meet one day,” he shrugged. “I’m a bit of a movie score geek.”

Louis scoffed, nodding down at his jacket. “A geek in Gucci,”

Harry poked his knee, his dimple blazing. “It’s actually Saint Laurent.”

“Ah, well then, proper posh, you are.” Louis eased back up to his feet, dusting off the back of his jeans. He didn’t want to look unruly with a runway model standing in front of him.

Harry followed his lead, thumbing back at the bar. “Do you want to go back in? I can form a protective barrier around you if you like,”

Louis looked at his hair with a nod, “The hair alone would cover me up.” Harry self-consciously moved a hand up to it, pushing it to the side. Louis cocked his head, “I quite like it.”

Harry’s creamy cheeks turned a touch of pink. He flicked his eyes back to the bar, chewing on his bottom lip. They landed back on Louis, a playful glint in them. “Do you want to go get donuts?”

Louis scratched his head. “Donuts...?”

Harry blinked at him earnestly. “Yeah like...donuts make everyone feel better.”

“You seem very certain about this,”

He shrugged, “I mean I used to be a baker. You should trust me.”

Louis stared at him blankly before shaking his head and waving him towards a cab just as Harry did the same.

Louis extended his arm in offering, “After you.”

…

“Hey Harry!”

The salesgirl waved at him like an old friend and didn’t even pause a beat when she started opening a box and filling it up for him.

Louis crossed his arms, shooting him a look. “Are you a regular here, Mr. Styles?”

Harry arched an eyebrow, pointing a finger at him. “Define regular,”

“Oh, he comes by almost every day,” chirped the bright eyed girl who was now pushing two boxes towards them.

Harry ignored Louis’ giggles in favor of pulling a few bills out of his wallet and leaving a generous tip, shoving one of the boxes in Louis’ hands and happily ignoring his smirk as well.

They grabbed a cab back to the hotel; a short and silent ride that was followed by a similar one on the elevator to Louis' room.

Harry hesitated, holding onto the door when it slid open. “Is it okay with you that I'm coming to your room? I don't want to intrude,”

“No, no it's all good. Niall got this ridiculous suite after all, may as well enjoy it.”

Only after the words tumbled out of his mouth did Louis think about how they may have sounded and quickly turned away, hoping Harry didn't see him fumble with the room key.

Louis shrugged his jacket off and threw it on a chair, toeing off his shoes next before plopping down on the floor, leaning his back against the bed.

Harry followed suit, mirroring his position, placing one of the pink boxes in-between them.

He glanced up with a timid smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, Harry, you can have the first donut.”

He chuckled, giving his head a small shake. “No I was going to say…well, I was just wondering if you would mind if I played some of your stuff?”

Louis drew back in surprise. “You want to listen to my music?”

Harry pulled his phone out with a nod. “Mmm hmm,” he scrolled through it, hovering his finger on the playlist, “Unless, it bothers you? Maybe it's weird that I asked…”

“No, it's not.” He thumbed the side of his mouth, scratching the bits of stubble there. “I suppose no one’s ever asked before aside from Niall, and that's only because I pay him to like it.”

Harry waited for the final okay. Louis gave him a thumbs up and he ducked his head down with a smile, and soon Louis was hit with a soft melodic piano riff he wrote when he was eighteen.

He remembers the exact time of day he wrote it. 2 a.m.; another unforgettable Thursday, on an abnormally hot summer night and he couldn't sleep because the one shitty fan they owned broke down.

He startled out of his memory at the sound of Harry's voice velvety voice. "I always thought this was the perfect soundtrack for this time of night," He opened the lid of the donuts edging it over to Louis.

He sucked in a breath, ignoring the way his fingers trembled. "I wrote it in the middle of the night."

“You did?"

He picked up a donut, plucking one of the loose Captain Crunch bits off. “Yeah,” He popped it in his mouth, eyes wandering to Harry’s thoughtful face. “You've got a good ear.”

“Is it hard?”

“What’s that?”

“Remembering a time you wrote about,” Harry tore off a piece of a bacon covered donut, chewing as he waited for Louis’ answer.

Normally Louis would avoid questions like this; the kind that drummed up memories that made his insides itch. But with Harry, for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind at all. He pursed his lips, shaking his head after a few seconds ticked by. “No. That’s what makes music, music, isn’t it?”

“I think my favorite part about music is relating it back to a time of day or season; that's what makes it memorable for me,” He moved his hands expressively when he was making a point, Louis noted. “You know like, when its dusk and it's not too light, but it's not quite dark either? There’s a song for that.”

“Mmm, I get that. I used to love songs about the summertime,"

Harry leaned forward, balancing his chin on his hand. “And now you don't?”

“Not love, no.” He paused briefly before saying what he hasn't said to anyone. “John passed away in the summer.”

Harry's face fell, a line drawing deep in his forehead. Before he could say the obligatory ‘I'm sorry’ he's heard a hundred times before, he powered on.

“I was being a pain in the arse; I just had to have milk for my tea, so he ran out in the middle of the night to get some. And he never came back.” Louis picked a piece donut absently, meeting Harry’s sad eyes. “Drunk driver,” If it was possible, Harry looked even sadder. “Needless to say, that was last time I ever wanted tea.”

He wiped his hands on his jeans, shrugging in place of being unsure of what to say now that he's laid his whole messy life out there.

Harry's face was flickering with emotion, as he tucked a long unruly curl behind his ear. He shuffled a little closer, his knees not quite touching Louis' own. He clasped his hands in between his legs, his shoulders curled forward.

“I know that you've probably heard this more times than you've cared to, but I'm so sorry Louis, I am. No one should ever have to lose a loved one. But, I also want to say thank you for sharing that with me, because I get the feeling that's not a thing you do very easily.”

Louis' lip twitched. “You’re very intuitive Harry Styles; are you sure you're not a pulling my leg about this whole music thing and you're secretly a fortune teller?”

A sly smile made his way across his lips. “I may or may not have a crystal ball at home,”

“I bet. You do have a very Stevie Nicks vibe, that's for certain.”

Harry broke out into a full grin; though his smile dropped back to a more serious look moments later. “Really though, _thank you_.” He reached out to touch Louis’ knee, pulling back at the last minute to fiddle with his rings again. “And I hope you're okay?”

Louis blew out a breathy laugh. “Okay is a very loaded word, but do you want to know what I told myself last night?” Harry waited, ever the patient listener. “That I was going to be. I owe it to the boys. They've put up with a lot of my moody bullshit over the past few years.”

Harry’s eyes softened, as if they could get any softer. Louis thinks he may be a marshmallow in human form. “That's because they love you. Niall talks about you all the time.”

“He also talks about Justin Bieber all the time, Harry. I know my place.”

He rolled his eyes and chewed on a piece of donut that left a drop of caramel on his lips. Louis averted his eyes when he drew his tongue out to lick it off. Instead he squinted at the clock, pulling his phone out to check for messages.

"Speak of the devil himself. Niall said they're heading back after they grab a bite to eat."

Harry started to stand up, wincing at the sound of his knees cracking.

Louis chuckled softly. "Rusty joints there, young man,"

"My own fault, I run and I've been told many times not to."

Louis wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Nobody should run, Harry. Not unless a serial killer hot on your heels."

He gave his stomach a pat, stifling a yawn. "Tell that to my donut filled belly."

Louis bit his tongue, noting that Harry’s body looked just fine to him; not that he was checking it out or anything. Toned thighs in skin tight jeans were just a thing a person with two working eyes noticed.

“I should head to my room; I don't want Niall to think I was getting fresh or anything.”

“Ha-ha, right.” Louis swallowed thickly, hoping that didn’t sound as awkward as it did in his head.

 He followed him to the door, leaning against the frame after he pulled it open.  

"Good night, Harry. You're a very good listener by the way,"

"Anytime,” He knocked on the wall, backing away, “‘Night Louis."

Louis shut the door and wandered back over to the bed, absently rubbing his arms. His skin was prickled with goose bumps.

It was quite obviously the air conditioning.

It was certainly not the work of a curly haired musician with a beautiful heart and calming smile.

He shed his clothes, dropping them to the floor and crawled into bed, hitting the pillow with a deep sigh. It had been a long, emotionally charged night.

But, that smile was the last thing that flashed into his mind before he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

...

He woke up to a much different smile that reeked of stale booze and weed.

" _Niall_."

"Get up. We're going to the airport,"

Louis pushed up on his elbows, rubbing a hand over his face. "What are you on about, are you still drunk?"

Niall crossed his legs, placing the box of donuts on top of them. "Kind of," He inspected the goodies, pulling out a cereal covered gem. "Who went to Voodoo?"

"Me and Harry,"

Niall raised an eyebrow, but didn't say whatever it was he meant to go with it. "Harry does love his donuts, I've never seen someone put away as many as him.” Niall’s eyes widened comically, “And he's so thin! What's the secret he's hiding behind all that floral print, I'd love to know."

‘He runs but it's bad for his knees’ Louis thought to himself as he picked up a donut of his own. He supposed they all were thinking things that were best left unsaid. "Okay, but back to this whole airport thing?"

"Oh fuck, yeah. I'm way too knackered to drive,"

Louis flicked him on the nose. "What happened to your grand road trip spiel?"

He smacked Louis’ hand away, plucking up another donut. "I'll take you for a drive when we get to Cali. I'm way more into this private jet that's waiting for us."

Louis settled back against the pillows, picking his glasses off the nightstand to slide on his face. "Only you would be able to hook up a private jet in the middle of the night. What about your car? You're just going to leave it at the airport for a month?"

He shrugged, licking sticky chocolate off his fingers. "Liam's gotta come home at some point."

"Gee thanks," Liam called out of the steamy bathroom.

Niall grinned. "See? All sorted. Harry’s meeting us there; he had a few things to pick up before we leave…which probably means more donuts."

...

The only thing Louis could do was laugh when Harry came sauntering into the plane with a pink box to match the high flush on the apples of his cheeks.

Niall slapped him on the shoulder, pushing him towards a seat. "I love how predictable you are, Harry."

Louis watched as he folded himself into the soft leather seat across from him, the sun reflecting off his rings. He turned to face Louis; his eyes sleep filled, and so, so green.

"Hello."

Louis didn't think anyone should look this angelic, especially in airplane lighting, but somehow Harry made it work, messy bun and all.

"Hello to you. Did you sleep well?" Louis almost kicked himself for asking the strangely intimate sounding question. If it fazed Harry, he didn't let on.

He scratched his head, his bottom lip pouting out, "Not really, I can't sleep in hotel rooms." Louis heard the ‘alone’ even though he didn't say it. His eyes met Louis' again, a sheepish look on his face. "So, I'll apologize in advance if I snore, because I have no problems falling asleep on planes."

Louis pointed a finger to where Niall was curled up, mouth hung wide open. "He's already beat you to it, feel free to snooze away."

"Thanks."

Harry slipped his headphones on and not even five minutes late he was dead to the world.

Louis pulled out the magazines he picked up at the store because he had always been too antsy to sleep on planes.

He idly flipped through the pages, eyes glazing over from reading without blinking for some time. He didn't know how long into the flight they were when he got up to stretch his legs and use the washroom.

He snapped on the light and blew out a whistle, "Now this I could get used to."

After going about his business he slashed water over his face, scrubbing his weeks old scruff with a frown. If he was going to put his best foot forward, maybe it was time to shave as well.

He pulled open the door and stopped short when he almost crashed directly into Harry's chest.

"Interested in the mile high club?"

Louis momentarily stopped breathing; his voice a whisper when it finally came out. "Excuse me?"

Harry had a cheeky smile and his dimple out when he handed him over a pamphlet that described the mile high club. In detail. With diagrams.

Fucking private jets.

"Very cute." He waved a hand, offering Harry the washroom. "It's all yours."

He brushed past him and hoped he couldn't feel the faint sweat that had broken out all over his skin.

Back in his seat he thought about anything and everything that didn't involve wondering if Harry was a member of that club.

When Harry finally settled back into his spot he found a much safer topic of conversation.

"Where do you live?"

Harry angled himself in the seat so he was curled on his side and could also face Louis, "Nowhere, really? I've been crashing at Niall's for the last few months. I haven't found a place that I like yet, and he refuses to let me stay in a hotel."

Louis dug his nails into his thigh. So, he would be sharing a house with Harry too. "That's good. You shouldn't rush into a place that doesn't feel like it's your home."

"Yeah," Harry said softly. "I'll find it soon though. It'll just kinda happen, I think."

"Yeah."

Louis turned around to look out the window, the lights of the city twinkling in a rhythm that he didn't understand quite yet.

But he thinks he wants to.

 

_‘Oh I did some damage, I know it’s true_

_Didn’t know I was so lonely, til I found you_

_You can go the distance_

_We’ll find out in the long run’_

*

They all fell into an easy routine once they settled into Niall’s house.

In the mornings Liam and Louis would walk on the beach because Liam would groan about them needing the exercise 'We aren't as spry as we used to be!'; then he would amble off to face time with Zayn and the kids while Louis would find himself sitting at the piano and staring out the window, for hours sometimes, waiting for the right melody to come to him.

Harry spent his time walking around in no shirt and jeans, or a shirt and tiny underwear, or a robe that didn't leave a lot to the imagination, while happily making them all breakfast, without fail, before he set off for the day.

Louis wondered how such a person was real; and more often than not, found himself wondering a lot of other things about Harry.

Ever since he had bared his weary soul to him that night in Portland, he couldn’t stop thinking about how effortless it had been to be with him like that. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel _anything_ , let alone feel his heart skip a beat every time Harry and his bright smile entered a room.

Since he didn’t quite know what to make of these feelings, or what to do with them, he instead did what he did best, which was brood.

He was a creature of habit, and sitting by the moon, no matter what time of the night it was, always helped drown out the anxious chatter in his head.

Louis was doing just that one lazy Friday night after the sun was long gone, as were Niall and Liam; Louis opting out of beers and darts to instead stay home and reflect all by his lonesome.

Or so he thought.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know."

He took another long drag. "I do."

Harry flopped down on the sand next to him, curling his arms around his knees.

"Did you have a good day?"

Louis stubbed the cigarette in the sand, throwing the butt into the empty beer bottle beside him. He turned to Harry with a smile. "Love, I start all my mornings with a power walk. I've made friends with several elderly women. Every day is good."

Harry searched his face. "I can't tell if you're pulling my leg or not,"

Louis gasped, drawing a hand up to his chest. "Harold, I am being nothing but serious. In fact, Mrs. Jones is bringing me her famous first date recipe tomorrow."

Harry coughed, twirling a piece of hair around his finger. "Oh...do you...do you like, have one?"

"I think you completely glossed over the whole part where I said I spend all my time with old ladies."

Harry looked strangely relived, bumping their shoulders together. "You never know,"

"Nah, I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm a grumpy old gay who doesn't want to take out one of the neighborhoods many single ladies. Her words, not mine.”

Harry let out a laugh that could only be compared to a feral cat. "You're not _old_ ,"

Louis raised his eyebrows, "Oh, but I'm grumpy, am I? I see how it is."

Harry pinched his thigh, "You would be less grumpy if you went skinny dipping with me,"

Louis' heart jumped into his throat, but he somehow managed to form a coherent response. "Did you grow up in a naked house or something? This aversion to clothing seems very hippy like to me."

Harry stood up, those knees creaking once again, holding his hand out to Louis. “I’m not big on the free love bit; but who doesn't enjoy a little nudity now and again?" He wriggled his fingers at Louis with a grin. "Come on."

Louis clutched his cold hand, pulling himself off the sand, "Alright, but no peeking."

He nodded and moved a few feet away, turning his back to Louis.

They undressed in silence, with Louis shivering and keeping his eyes on the night sky to keep his own silent vow of not peeking at Harry, whose voice called out moments later.

"On three, okay?"

"Gotcha,"

He counted off and Louis took off in a run before he heard the final number. When he hit the water he grabbed his dick, squawking loudly, "Fucking hell, its cold as fuck in here, what a bloody stupid idea!"

He jumped around on his feet, chattering his teeth, when Harry splashed up beside him, seemingly unfazed by the chill.

"It's not _that_ cold, but,“ he spread his arms out, offering Louis the space between them.

Louis flicked water at him, sticking his tongue out. "Quit bragging about your abnormal body heat."

Louis moved away from the all too tempting image, because he did want to jump into Harry’s welcoming arms.

There was nothing but the sound of the waves and their breathing among it for the next few minutes.

He could feel Harry's presence, but it wasn't until his quiet voice drifted out that he realized how close he was.

"You look beautiful under the moonlight. You should know that."

He glanced over his shoulder, reading nothing but sincerity in Harry's eyes.

He looked down at his quivering stomach, unsure of what to say back.

In lieu of making an idiot out of himself he nodded toward the shore, "I think I'm going to head back in."

The quiet ‘bye Lou’ was drowned out by the waves crashing against the shore.

...

He went straight to the music room, needing to put the scattered thoughts into a format that made sense to him.

Louis didn't have enough words to explain Harry.

So he played them instead.

_‘The full moon is calling, the fever is high_

_And the wicked wind whispers and moans_

_You got your demons, you got desires_

_Well, I got a few of my own’_

*

The next morning Harry and Niall left for the day to do the last minute touches on his album, leaving Louis to think about how to _actually_ deal with all his pent up Harry emotions.

Harry was this uncomplicated, kind soul that made him feel things again that he thought were tucked deep into the back of his mind.

He was infuriatingly gorgeous; especially in the morning when his hair was hanging down around his shoulders, and the highlights in his hair were brought out by his deep, golden tan and his eyes were a hazy shade of mossy green.

Louis leaned his head against the piano, letting out a long suffering groan.

"You alright, Lou?"

He held up an okay signal, whining inwardly. "I am fantastic, Niall."

"You want drive to San Diego today? Harry didn't need me,”

Louis gave him a non-committal grunt in response.

“We can check out some wineries,” he added in a cheery sing song voice.

Louis peeled himself up and turned around on the bench. He clapped his hands together, rubbing them side to side. " _Please_ , nothing sounds better than drinking my weight in wine right now."

...

Liam offered his driving services, coming for the scenery and company instead of the much needed alcohol Louis was looking for.

The drive was beautiful though; there was just _something_ about California in the late summer. So many songs were founded in the crooks and crannies of the miles of beach and ocean waves and the subtle breeze that was blowing through the shaggy strands of Louis' hair.

He tipped his head back and listened to Niall and Liam chat about nothing really. It felt oddly calming, which was the desired affect he wanted right now.

They pulled into the first winery and quickly settled on a two bottles of white that they took out to the picnic tables to have alongside the sandwiches they purchased on the way down.

Liam poured out a bag of chips, munching quietly. "There's a few more places to go boys, don't put all your wine in one basket,"

Niall shrugged, "This is my favorite, and Louis needs to talk." He picked up the bottle and took a swig. "So, we drink and talk."

Liam swallowed around a mouthful of chips, a frown line creasing into his forehead. "Is everything okay?"

Louis grabbed the other bottle, taking a deep sip of his own, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bloody hate that term now,"

Niall pat his hand knowingly.

The small gesture made him let go.

"It's Harry."

Liam rolled his eyes, glancing at Niall. "Finally."

Louis placed the bottle on the table with a dramatic thump. "How's there a finally? I haven't even told you anything yet!"

Now it was Liam’s turn for the knowing hand pat. "Lou, you have _the worst_ heart eyes. Your face does this indescribable thing when he's around; like I can see you writing songs about him in your head."

His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I am." He pressed his thumb into the brie that was oozing out of his sandwich. "That's a pretty big thing for me."

" _So_ , tell him you like him,"

Louis picked up the bottle again, contemplating smashing it across his own head. "Niall, I'm an emotionally unstable, soon to be 35 year old man. I can't just say 'hey Harry, I like you, do you like me too?' Fucking ridiculous, that."

Niall snorted. "He wore a lot more clothes before you showed up, so I don't think you even have to ask if he likes you."

"I suppose that’s true. We did go skinny dipping together,"

Liam banged a fist on the table, “What?! Where are all the dirty details?"

"There aren't any. He told Lou he was beautiful, and dumb dumb over here said nothing and left him high and not so dry."

Louis sputtered on his wine, gaping at him. Niall reached a finger over to close his mouth, smirking. "You do realize I’m with Harry everyday, right?”

"Oh."

Niall smacked him across the head, "Exactly." He ruffled his hair after, smoothing a hand down his cheek. "Lou, he thinks you hung the fucking stars or something. Just tell him."

Liam bounced him his seat, nodding enthusiastically. "Tell him tonight!"

Louis shook his head, twirling the bottle in between his fingers. "No, he's preoccupied with the album; I don't want to ruin his mojo or whatever."

"He's actually crashing in Hollywood for a few days, but you can tell him this weekend. He's playing the Troubadour remember? And then having a party at the Soho House to celebrate,"

Liam brightened, "Hey, that works perfectly, Zayn's flying in for it. He loves a good romance story."

"Glad I have a choice in the matter, thanks boys."

Niall slung an arm around him, hugging him into his side.

"Shut up and tell the curly haired Prince that the little one with the cheek bones is in love with him."

*

The Troubadour was packed with people, the buzz around the room making even Louis anxious; he could only hope that Harry was faring better than him.

Niall was backstage with him, leaving Louis with Zayn and Liam, who had already taken off to get drinks for them.

Louis had known them both long enough to know that meant them making the most of their alone time, but between Liam's partnership at the law firm, Zayn's teaching gig and music lessons he taught on the side, plus their two kids, he knew how rare it was for them to have a weekend away all to themselves. 

The lights started to dim and a few moments later he could see the outline of Harry's slouchy frame walking over to a stool. He leaned down to pick up a guitar, slinging it around his body as he perched himself on the stool.

The lighting changed and when Harry came into view, Louis sucked in a breath. It had been a few days since he had seen him, and of course he's had days full of Harry over the summer, but he's never seen like this; in his element.

He was wrapped up in painted on blue jeans, a sheer black t-shirt and a caramel colored hat atop of head, with curly ringlets springing out beneath it.

He was unreal.

"Hello, I'm Harry Styles, I hope you're all having a lovely night so far. My first song is something new I've been working on and I wanted to share it with you all tonight." He strummed his guitar, stuttering out a breath, "This is 'He Who Hung The Stars."

Louis blew out the breath he had been holding as well, jolting out of his Harry trance when Liam smacked his arm.

"This is about you!"

Zayn handed him a beer, nodding his head. "Yeah, the ‘blue eyed angel’ part kinda gave it away."

Louis wanted to melt into the floor. This was a lot to take in. He was used to writing music for the people he loved, but no one had ever done the same for him.

It was unnerving and overwhelming. He took a sip of his beer and blinked back the tears that were forming behind his eyes.

Liam clasped his shoulder, leaning his forehead against his back, "Please don't start crying, or I'll cry too."

Zayn curled an arm around him, "Babe, its fine. They're happy tears, isn't that right, Lou?"

"The happiest,"

He watched Harry finish out the song with his eyes closed and a faint smile ghosting across his lips.

Louis couldn't wait to finally feel what it would be like to kiss them.

...

The after party was a who's who of the industry all piled into one posh space. Louis hadn't seen any of the boys since they arrived; Niall was fielding all of Harry's questions and Louis his own about when he would be available for work again.

He finally spied a bun he'd come to love with a little too much heart, excusing himself from the conversation he had been stuck in. "Sorry to bugger off, but I've got to catch the man of the hour. Shoot me an email Ted, we'll go from there."

Louis shook his hand and pushed through the crowd of people until Harry's back was an arm’s length away from him.

He brushed his fingers along his neck, feeling the shiver that went through him before he turned around.

"Hey rock star,"

Harry blushed, fiddling with the cross that shimmered under the party lights. "Did you like it?"

"I _loved_ it." Louis reached for his hand, nodding towards the patio. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Harry followed behind him, so close that Louis could feel the heat of him all along his back.

There were a few party goers outside but he managed to find an empty corner to spill all the secrets from his formerly empty heart.

He spun around, thinking that it was now or never.

"I want to kiss you, if that's alright with you."

Harry's eyes widened, but he reached out for Louis without hesitation, pulling him against his chest.

"Please, Louis... _please_ ,"

Louis wrapped his hand around his neck and arched up to meet his lips and when they did, everything in his world finally felt right.

When they moved together it felt familiar; like they've done this before in another life time, and Louis didn’t even believe in that mumbo jumbo, but right now, in this moment where he could feel Harry running though his veins from one simple kiss, he did.

He traced his tongue over Harry's, deepening the already knee weakening kiss, and the way Harry was moaning from something so simple made him have to finally break away.

"That was—“

Harry cut him off, taking his face in his hands and kissing him until every last breath was punched out of him.

"Incredible," Louis breathed against his lips, tugging the bottom one with his teeth. "Fucking incredible,"

Harry ran his hands up and down his arms, eyes twinkling in awe. "A man of many words I see,"

"I do believe you're the song writer, not me."

Harry shut his eyes, leaning his forehead against Louis' "Right, songwriting…which is why I'm here." He squeezed Louis' shoulders, "I have to get back, but I need you to know—"

Louis kissed him again, hugging him closer, his voice in a soft whisper, "I know, Harry. And I feel the same way."

"Fuck." Harry's lip quivered, his eyes darting towards the door. "I hate that I have to leave during this somewhat important moment,"

Louis held onto his hands, swinging their arms back and forth. "How's this. I like you. You like me. How about you and me and dinner, since Niall’s left the house to us for the weekend,”

"I would say that sounds pretty perfect to me."

"I'll see you there tomorrow?"

Harry nodded, pressing more kisses along his cheeks. "It's a date."

Louis watched him go, his face full of regret with the final wave he gave him before going inside.

It was the lightest Louis had felt in years.

 

_‘Some people like to stay out late_

_Some folks can’t hold out that long_

_But nobody wants to go home now_

_There’s too much going on’_

*

Harry showed up in the late afternoon the next day with flowers and a bright pink box.

Louis took it out of his hands, raising an eyebrow, "Donuts?"

"You know me too well."

They walked to the kitchen, which Louis had lit up with candles because he knew that Harry had a thing for them, and he could only hope the food smelt good as well.

"I feel very spoiled right now,"

"I've never cooked anyone a proper meal before, so you should."

Harry spun on his heel, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Did you make me the first date meal?"

Louis tugged on his arm, bringing him into a kiss, "I’m pretty sure you earned it.” He dropped back down to his feet, spinning Harry towards the open patio door. “I thought we could eat outside, it's lovely out.”

They sat down at the table that Louis had already put together, the sun turning the horizon a hue of pinks and purples, creating the perfect romantic setting.

Harry unfolded his napkin across his lap, letting out a small giggle. “No wonder this is _the_ first date meal,” He stuck a finger in the mashed potatoes, sucking it into his mouth with a gasp. “Are these homemade?”

It took Louis a moment to get over Harry wrapping his lips around his finger. He reached for the wine, pouring them both a glass. “Yes, its chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham and a side of homemade mash.”

Harry leaned over and clutched his hand, looking him dead in the eyes. “That is the hottest thing that anyone has ever said to me.”

The way he was looking at Louis right now, he believed it. He pushed a hand in his face, laughing, “Eat your food, you knob.”

Harry licked his hand before sitting back and cutting into his first bite of chicken. Aside from the soft music floating in from the kitchen speakers, and the few obscene moans that left Harry’s mouth, they ate in a peaceful and comfortable quiet.

Louis leaned back in his chair, fixing his eyes on Harry’s profile. He was looking at the ocean, taking a sip of wine as he met Louis’ eyes.

"Do you know the movie Beaches?"

He nodded, tapping his fingers on his stomach. "Yeah, of course,"

Harry’s smile was soft and light. "I always loved that patio."

"That's why Niall bought this place. He's a sucker for that movie; cries every single time."

"Don’t you?”

"I don't cry, I make music."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Liar."

Louis slid his fingers up the arm of the chair, picking at the worn wood. "Actually...I wrote something for you...if you want to hear it?"

For someone who flowed through life with the pace of a sea turtle, Louis had never seen Harry move as fast as he did after those words left his mouth.

He tugged Louis out of his chair and marched him all the way to the music room, gesturing with his hand for him to sit on the bench.

Louis raised his eyebrows, “I take it that’s a yes then?”

Harry just folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Louis to proceed. He cracked his knuckles and feathered over the keys, closing his eyes when he started the sweet melody.

His hands flew over the piano with a long practiced ease, losing himself in well, Harry really. Everything he wanted to say to Harry was carefully chosen in each note that he played, because it was a language he knew that Harry would understand.

When he finished the last few chords, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. Warm hands came to rest on his shoulders.

" _Louis.._."

He could relate to the tender way Harry whispered his name.

Louis reached back for his hand, bringing his fingertips to his lips, pushing the lightest of kisses against them. “I think I’m already falling in love with you.”

“Falling in love with you was inevitable.”

The way he said it was so simple and unabashed, but it affected every fiber of Louis’ being. He suddenly needed to touch Harry; have his hands all over him so Louis could know that he was real and didn’t just imagine him.

He spun around on the bench, fixing his legs so Harry was stood between them.  He moved his hands to his stomach, roaming under the light cotton t-shirt. Louis' hands shook, but it was different from how they had been in the past. “I haven't done this in so long, I’m a bit nervous.”

Harry’s hips stuttered forward when he brushed past his nipple. He gripped Louis’ shoulders, his thumb digging into his collarbones. “We—we can do whatever you want, it doesn’t matter,”

Louis felt clammy and aroused all at the same time. He figured humor would be good to take the edge off; they were good at banter. “Well, if you’re taking requests, I’d love to fuck you, but—“

Harry stumbled backwards and whipped off his shirt, "I was hoping you’d say that, I kind of ... well you're so hot, and the thought of being alone with you got me hot, so I may have spent some time thinking about that today,"

“Jesus Christ, just—just come here,” he tucked his fingers into the waistband of the cut offs that were hanging low on Harry’s hips, looking up at him through his lashes. “Are you sure?”

Harry moved his hand to the top button, guiding his fingers to open it. “Louis, it isn’t everyday a person gets to fulfill a sexual fantasy,” he popped the rest of the buttons and shimmed out of the shorts, kicking them to the side.

“Now, fuck me on this piano like we’re in Pretty Woman.”

…

Louis gripped Harry thighs, settling them both on the ancient Persian rug, gasping for air. Louis fell down on his back, pulling Harry down with him, settling his eyes on the ceiling fan whirling above them.

Harry thread his fingers through the damp hair on his chest, a smile in his voice. “Niall is going to kill us if he finds out,”

Louis rolled to his side, resting his head on his pleasantly warm arm. “I have it on good authority that this room has seen its fair share of shags.”

Harry let out a giggle, his dimple deep and prominent; the way it always got when he was well and truly happy. Louis stroked the tip of his forefinger over it, poking it until it slowly faded away, his eyes turning serious.

“When are you going home?”

Louis’ brows furrowed with confusion, “Hmm?”

“Umm, you know, Seattle? I just wanted to know how much longer I have you.”

Louis thought about his house and all the memories that lived in the shadows.

It didn't feel like a home anymore.

“You know what? I'm kind of thinking about a change of scenery. LA much better fits my mood.”

Harry rolled on top of him, hiding the ear to ear grin in his neck.

 

_‘Cause I got a peaceful easy feeling,_

_And I know you won’t let me down_

_‘cause I’m already standing on the ground’_

*

**February 2016**

 

The camera’s flashed all around them, and there were a slew of reporters calling out their names. Louis paused for Entertainment Tonight; he had always favored them over E!, the lesser of two evils in his mind.

“Louis! It's been ages since we've seen you on a red carpet,”

He gave an easy laugh, “Ah, I'm just a behind the scenes kind of guy, I'm boring really.”

Harry dropped a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently while giving a dazzling smile to the reporter, “He's much too modest for someone with an Oscar, don’t you think?"

“I have to agree with you there.” She pointed at Harry’s hand, her eyes dancing between them. “And I hear there's a congratulation’s due for the two of you,”

“Yes, indeed. Louis proposed on Christmas day, which was a lovely surprise, though I think he meant it as a birthday gift to himself.” Harry winked at her, bumping his elbow against Louis'.

Louis bumped him back, matching his crinkly smile. “Best present I've ever received.”

“You two are so adorable. How did you guys meet?”

Louis gave him the nod to go ahead, knowing it was Harry’s favorite story to tell. “Do you know what? We met last year for the first time, but it turned out Louis and I were at the same gig a few years before that,”

She beamed. "Well, if that isn't fate, I don't know what is."

"He bought me donuts. It was hard not to love him,”

"Thank guys, and good luck Harry, the album is amazing."

They continued down the carpet, Louis leaning up to whisper in his ear. "You _are_ pretty amazing, it's true."

Harry grabbed his hand, slotting their fingers together. "I couldn't have done it without you being so supportive,"

"I'll always be your biggest fan, love."

" _Heeey_ , that was my title first,"

Louis stopped in his tracks, drowning out the noise of the crowd. He picked up their hands, bringing them up to his chest.

"Then just know that no matter what, you're always in my heart."

 

 

Because Harry was the one that made it beat again.

 

 

_‘Now I’ve found you_

_There’s no more emptiness inside_

_When we’re hungry_

_Love will keep us alive’_

**Author's Note:**

> a list of the songs, in order:
> 
> Tryin'  
> Take it to the Limit  
> Take It Easy  
> Hotel California  
> In the Long Run  
> One of These Nights  
> Heartache Tonight  
> Peaceful Easy Feeling  
> Love Will Keep Us Alive


End file.
